Earl's Call
by Aris-Dreamer
Summary: The last war against the Earl ended with his downfall, impaled by the innocence known as ‘Crown Clown’, his body burned and his ashes thrown to the wind, never to be seen again. That should have been the end of the story...
1. Preview

He'd heard the stories his whole life, sitting next to his grandfather in his library by the fire. The two of them would stay there for hours, riffling through the old documents that'd been deemed 'acceptable' to record. He would not have believed any of the stories were real if it were not for the fact he bore the mark of the exorcist…

The last war against the Earl ended with his downfall, impaled by the innocence known as 'Crown Clown', his body burned and his ashes thrown to the wind, never to be seen again. That should have been the end of the story. Yet, the Noah have been returning, and the innocence has responded. The Black Order has been reestablished and with the technologies of the 21st century, defeating the Earl should be a breeze…except, no one knows where the Earl is… This is the story of the next generation of exorcists.


	2. Chapter 1

Jack pushed aside the coke sitting in front of him, glaring into its contents as if the drink could answer all of his problems. Of course, it offered none. Why should it? No one had been able to answer him, not his grandfather, not his mum, not his uncle. He knew they knew something, but did any of them bother to tell him anything these days? No. Jack put down a five on the table before getting up, shoulders hunched, and walked out of the little diner he had been hulled up in for the past few hours. Everyone knew him here, so it was not a big deal for him to spend hours here.

Outside, the clouds seemed to boil with pent up emotion, ready to spill everything out in a storm of anger and frustration. It was all too fitting. There was a single crackling of thunder overhead as lightning laced across the sky. He'd have to get home soon, or else Liverpool would rain down on him.

Honestly, Jack didn't know why his mum had decided to move here of all places. Amsterdam had been ten times nicer than his new home. People had been ten times more laid back, and they didn't use strange words or phrases that seemed completely random in his opinion. It was utter madness.

There was the sound of screeching tires, and a abrupt scream that was instantly cut off. Jack frowned, unsure as to what to do. The sound had come from around the corner that led to a side street. His hesitation though was short lived as he heard the unmistakable sound of bullets. He hastened off towards the sound, a swift and instantaneous motion that he'd honed after so many years of soccer. The thunder rumbled again overhead, the downpour following it. Jack came to a sudden halt as he reached his destination.

Before him, a woman lay on the ground, a bullet wound in her arm. Jack hurried forward, kneeling down and pulling her into his embrace. He felt the blood dripping from where the wound was, mingling with the rain as it soaked his pants. His eyes widened in horror as pentacles suddenly began to appear on her skin, then- she shattered.

"What-?" he croaked, looking at the ash remains in his lap.

There was a sudden burst of bullets above him, and Jack acted instinctively, rolling to the side and hiding behind a car. Peering around the edge of the vehicle, he gasped at the sight laid out before him. It was some sort of balloon or ball. Every inch of it was covered in guns, except for a clownish face that was stuck in what seemed like a permanent scream. The creature- machine? Floated towards him, chains clanking together from underneath of its engorged body as it came closer and closer to Jack's hiding spot.

There was a sudden spasm of pain in his arm, and for a moment, he thought he'd been shot. He looked down, and nearly fainted when he saw the limb was glowing. The cross set in his palm felt like it was on fire, and he clutched his hand to his chest, willing himself not to cry out in pain. The creature was nearly upon him, and there was nowhere to go.

'Why?' he thought, 'Why do I have to die now?'

Time seemed to freeze. The very sound of the rain and thunder seemed to disappear. It was only him and the monster above him. He could see every detail of it as he looked into its hungry eyes. His own reflection showed in them, his terror filled face seeming to fill the hideous orbs. Then, from out of nowhere, there was an explosion, and the creature exploded. Jack threw up his good arm to ward off the debris that flew from the monstrosity. Blinking through the dust, he looked around for an explanation, and saw a girl standing a few feet from him, her gloved hands poised in an elegant splay like an Indian dancer. He stared at her openly, only looking away when her hazel eyes met his own. When he looked back up, he saw she was now standing over him, a large grin on her face.

She was beautiful, with her dark tan skin and long hair, held back in a braid. She looked him over thoughtfully for a moment, before reaching out a hand to help him up. Her gloves were so strange. They were black laced with intricate lines of silver and green…the same colors held in the cross on his wrist. She smiled knowingly at him and said,

"That's my innocence, Guiding Hands. My name is Amala Lachapelle. I'm an exorcist."


	3. Chapter 2

Jack looked up at Amala as she helped him up, his blue eyes never leaving hers. He'd never met anyone quite like her. She wore a flouncy black dress made of an elegant lace that was similar in look to that of her gloves. Over the dress was a formfitting black jacket that reminded Jack of a military jacket he'd seen in some anime his older brother had been watching. The jacket was intricate in every sense of the word from the silver trim to the cross pendent that lay atop her left breast just above her heart, almost like a target.

"Well?" she said, "Aren't you going to introduce yourself? I did just save your life after all."

"Oh! Erm, right. I'm Jackson Cooper, but just call me Jack. It's shorter and a lot cooler sounding."

"Jack? Like Pirate Jack?" Amala asked, a grin slowly spreading across her face to reveal perfect white teeth, "I kid! It's a nice name."

Jack eyed the remains of the…thing…that had attacked him with a look of contemplation on his face. He knew for sure he'd never seen anything like it before, yet it was strangely familiar to him. Part of him wanted to call it a machine or demon even, yet the word that leapt unbidden to his lips was,

"Akuma."

"What?" Jack said, looked back at Amala with a startled expression, "Akuma? That's Japanese or something right?"

"Yes, it is, or I think it is. Hm, you know, now that I think about it, I never asked…anyways, that's what it's called." She replied in a matter of fact way, as though talking about random killing machines was a perfectly normal thing to do.

"What is it though? I mean, I get that it's called an Akuma, but seriously! What the hell is it?! It just appeared out of nowhere and started attacking some chick, who by the way, turned to dust after she got a few unwanted tattoos! Then you just come along and flick your fingers and boom! Monster gone! What the hell is going on?"

Jack had finally snapped. He was finally processing everything, and he wasn't liking the outcome. This wasn't some sort of sci-fi movie for Pete's sakes! This was real life! There were no such things as Exorcists or Akuma! A mixture of uncertainty, fear, and the chilling rain from above made Jack shiver, and he crossed his arms in an attempt to ward it away. Amala gave him a sympathetic look, and rested a hand on his shoulder. He was surprised at how cold her touch felt. Was it her gloves that made her fingers like ice? Recalling how she'd said that her 'innocence' or something was 'Guiding Hands', he pulled away from her grasp, taking a step back. She looked hurt by it, but didn't try to reestablish the touch.

"Look, Jack, I know this must be hard to understand. It's a lot to take in at once. If you're willing, we can go talk over some coffee or something and I'll explain all of this to you, unless you'd rather try and forget about it, in which case I'll be leaving now. I have a mission to attend to still."

In spite of everything, Jack didn't want Amala to leave, and he quickly raised a hand in protest, "Wait, I'll listen, just don't leave yet, alright? I'm not afraid or anything, I just…I need to understand. I'm not the kind of guy to just leave things alone."

"You like the truth, yes?" Amala asked, a small smile forming, "Alright then. Well then, lead the way. And don't worry about the Akuma. He'll disintegrate in a moment." She added, noting his downward gaze.

"Right. I know a good café down the way. It's got good coffee there too so-"

Jack stopped as he felt a sudden intense pain in his back. He cried out, falling to his knees as his world seemed to tilt before him. Amala hadn't missed a beat. She was instantly behind him, defending him from whatever had hit him. Jack reached back to touch the area where the throbbing was and pulled his fingers away to find them wet with blood. Even as he stared in horror at the blood, he saw his skin beginning to form the same black pentacles that the woman whom had turned to dust had. Was he about to do the same? There was a loud explosion behind him and Jack assumed that whatever had been attacking him had just met it's match.

His vision swam, and for a moment, he wondered if this would really be the end. He felt someone holding him upright and saw Amala standing before him, shouting something at him. He didn't quite understand. All he was aware of was the burning in his back and the sudden sharp pain that lanced up his arm. He looked over at his left arm; the one that had his whole life caused him to be teased at school. His hand was glowing again, the glove that covered it barely masking the bright green light that emitted from it, and suddenly, the light enveloped not only his hand, but his entire arm, racing up it until it surged through his entire body. The last thing he remembered was Amala's astonished look, then, his world went black.


	4. Chapter 3

"Shouldn't he have woken up by now? His family has already called the police AND tried contacting the Order."

"Patience, he'll be fine. He managed to activate just in time before the Akuma's poison managed to completely ravage his body. And as for his family, I've already sent a Finder to speak with them about the matter. Needless to say they were most upset that we found out about him, but they've agreed to let him stay if he wishes."

"It's been three days though! No one else with a parasitic innocence has this problem. He should be fine other than the bullet wound where the poison entered, so why hasn't he woken?"

"Amala, it was a forced activation. His innocence sync rate went from under five percent to 79% in a matter of seconds. It put a lot of strain on his body."

"But if he's parasitic, he was probably born with it so why would his sync rate be so low?"

"Because up until now his body has been suppressing it in order to keep from stressing itself. What are you so upset about? You completed the mission in a left handed way. You found the innocence and better yet, the accommodator."

Jack heard the sound of a door closing and forced his eyes open, blinking away tears as the florescent lights above nearly blinded him. The blankets that covered his body felt like lead, and he realized with a start that he was naked from the waist up. Every part of his body ached as though he'd been running for the last day and a half. His first thought was 'Where am I?' and his second was 'Oh crap! Mom's going to kill me for being late!'. That thought pushed him into action. His mother's wrath was certainly something to be feared. Sitting up, he tossed the sheets off himself and leapt out of the bed all in a single smooth motion- only to have his knees buckled beneath him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone reach forward and catch him before he could topple to the ground. His savior helped steady him, maneuvering him back to the bed.

"Woah now, you can't just jump out of bed like that, kid. You've been asleep for three days. Your body isn't ready to be running around like that yet."

Jack looked at his rescuer, his expression guarded. The man had an American accent and looked something like a doctor or scientist with graying Einstein hair to match. He was about forty or so and had kindly, yet stern black eyes that suggested that he'd seen his fair share of life. He gave Jack a smile before extending a hand.

"Drake Lee," he said as introduction, "European Branch head of the Black Order and world class scientist. Well…unrecognized scientist."

Jack arched an eyebrow as he took Drake's hand, "Jackson Cooper…erm pardon my ignorance, but what do you mean 'the Black Order'? Some sort of business or cult?"

Drake laughed, "Not quite. We work under the Church. Admittedly, the name is a bit…misleading, but that's what were called and have been for God knows how long. We are the home and the support of the Exorcists in the battle against the Millennium Earl."

"Who?"

"The leader of the Akuma and the Noah. He wishes to basically bring the destruction of the world, leaving only enough humanity for his precious Akuma to feed off of. Essentially, he's your typical bad guy. I can honestly say though I don't understand madmen like him."

Jack frowned, rubbing his head. He was startling to get a headache, "It sounds like a story I read once."

"That doesn't surprise me considering your family, and before you get your 'knickers in a knot' as I believe the Britt's say, I've already contacted them. Your mother's quite loud on the phone you know."

"I can believe that. Wait, you called my family? How did you know what their number was? And why isn't it surprising that I've heard a story like this?"

"Cooper isn't your families original last name, is it?"

"No, it is, it's just, my Grandmother remarried after my father was born, so we kept her old last name."

"And her new husband's last name was-?"

"_Is_ Bookman. It's a little strange, but he said it's because it's an old last name."

Drake nodded, "Indeed it is. Well, I won't tell anymore than you already know then. So, your arm, how does it feel?"

Jack rubbed his right arm, which had been bound in bandages. It didn't hurt or anything. In fact, he felt stronger than ever. He flexed his hand, looking at the intricate tattoos that wove along his fingers, visible just at the edges of the bandages. He looked to Drake, about to ask if he could unbind it, and Drake nodded. Jack unwrapped the white gauze, feeling the blood rush down his arm to his hand again. His whole arm was laced with elaborate swirls and runes like henna tattoos. He knew a few of the runes from Norse mythology that his grandfather had taught him, and they'd always been there on his arm along with the green cross that had been embedded in his hand since he was born. The swirls were new though, and he eyed them with a sort of fascination. Well, this was certainly going to be fun to explain to the teachers at school.

"Activate it." Drake commanded.

"Wh-what?" Jack asked, confused.

"Make it into a weapon."

"Erm…I don't think that can happen. Human's don't spontaneously turn into weapons you know. Not unless they're ironman or something."

"They do if they're Exorcists, and Jack, that's exactly what you are. You and your innocence Ragnarok's End."

[[Note to my readers: Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been majorly busy with school. I should have next one up by Friday.]]


End file.
